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In Dreams

“I can’t move” X said

“Neither can I. And more importantly we are not supposed to move. We are like trees”,Y replied.

“yes trees maybe. But time passes. Children come and play. The evening falls. Our branches grow beyond our knowing. “

“Then what would be the purpose?. Or is it what isn’t the purpose?” y smiled as he asked this and then said ”Slowly the pilgrims change destinations. Searching instead for a building that supplies all the electricity in the world. Or set of sketch pens pouring infinite number of colors” 

“ oh I remember sketch pens. We used to take out the ink in them and then pour in bottles with water .It was cold that morning. The crows left the terrace as I opened the door.Or maybe I saw that in a movie…I cant remember” x said

“there is water on both the sides. A single road goes in between and then vanishes into the water.the weather is stormy. The hyacinths are floating and beneath them there are the cobras” y said with affectation.

“and whats left  behind? Dint you look behind?” X asked.

“No I dint. I could not. But I know more. I have known the afternoon too. Afternoons filled with the smell of incense sticks. .Tori Amos singing Carnival with the turn of the sun. Libido crawling like a spider on the surface of ancient temples”

“ but the evening is mine. Father comes from office. Maa makes tea. We study rhyme books. The night outside smells of ripening fruits. There is the TV going ZEzezzezzzzzzzzzzzzzz.Our house floats on the sea.There is no one around .No one around.Only the  stars and planets and Neil Armstrong on the moon.ZEZEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ……End of transmission.” X fell silent.

“I cant move” he said after sometime.

The purpose

“The purpose is love” Y began. ” Love that happens in sleep. The purpose is ruined when you know it”

“That maybe so. But it contains the inherent danger of inbreeding” X replied.

“I am blind. I lost my eyesight long ago. But your reply reminds me that I am just myopic” Y said. “But love it is I know. The purpose is definitely love. If all else fails there is the handy pedophilia”

“Geez u are sick”

“Oh my Lolita” y laughed.

X said “the purpose is love. When you erase out the impossible whatever remains however improbable must be the truth. Sherlock Holmes”

“But here is what I hate: the distilled purpose relies too much on youth and beauty. Also this story goes through the looking glass…the lovers see themselves in the mirror in which another couple are looking at another couple in another mirror …and it goes on. Orhan Pamuk”

“One day. One road. One breath of impulse to whisper “I fell in love with you while I was asleep”…..and the journey shall begin…..”

“And so the journey began. From the ruins of a lost civilization. In search of new land……the journey  began from the pain of child birth to the odor of perspiration…..the journey began from the palaces whose doors were  closed to the open fields where the koel sings of peace…the journey began … from the emptiness of lonely seas into the coziness of a  blanket…..” y said.

X said ” but we can’t even move”

” but   we are always moving …immersed in a river of life”

“ such optimism does not last long”  x said.

“and neither does love .but we can exchange dreams…..i hope …..the absence of purpose shall bring us together ….”

From Facebook

1.

He was in search of memory in the vague streets of time gone by.Wishing day and night to find  a colour suitably faded by time which could camouflage his skin.

She was trying to forget the past everyday in silver screens.Looking for a colour bright enough to be called "fun loving" & "successful".

They find one another ondeday at some point of time when the past meets the present. When fairy tales mingle with reality. 

Being old friends she tries to hug him in some gesture she has learnt from her favourite star.But he makes an uneasy face and moves away.And it makes her uneasy too.Her  affectionate face clouded by  the burden of pentitent pretence.

The moment... the ueasy silence.

One unable to receive love .Another no longer able to give it.

(Thanks to  Orhan Pamuk's The black book)

2.

the scorched afternoon
as dry as a bone
windy with extraterrestial tunes
submerged in chemical fumes



the colossal sun in rage
pulversising  the surface like chalk
you baulk at the sporadic sounds of life
the drone of the machines stalk you out
of the rhyme of drizzle
of love...of the evening lamp


for an instant you feel the earth turn in its cosmic sphere
mad with mercury vapor
inhuman ...and alien

The night

That the night is enormous
That we shall carry the burden of dreams
With us until we die
That silence shall overlap silence
With growing uneasiness
And increase in number
of things we don't like
That neither joy nor sadness
made you write
just a lack of definition
or inability to fall asleep.



(yes neruda)

Trepidations

If u your eyes are staring at me...
.What ever i do is a pretense.
..but don't forger dear ..
there is a living  reason beneath
all my trials are out of love

but you are looking at me now


( for all the bloggers who have a fascination with the word "poignant "
here is a line "you can always trust a murderer for a fancy prose style"-Vladimir Nabokov)

Enjoy!!!

Factory Act 2012

each evening feels like the aftertaste
of a filterless cigarette


the sea indavdes the room everynight
we listen to only echoes across the shore


the mornings are lone bus rides through a deserted town
the ghosts look at each other
the ghosts sigh
the ghosts howl into the night

finding nothing they rub polythene on skin
inhale acetylene
talk of harder metals
and leather clad bondaged virgins
under a sky full of neon lights


each word comes back again and again
till they loose their meaning
finding nothing else
we rub more polythene on skin
inhale acetylene

(this is surely not something felt by the majority.....and so the title is wrong perhaps..too bombastic....but to hell with it)

Three

1.You are going nowhere


all your life you try to conform
and then you realise the rules were meant to be broken


or

all your life you try to break the rules
only to realise
that you have not been living a life

2.Since you are shy

since you are shy
uneasy to the eye
but your ease with loneliness
makes me wonder where
your secret laughter lies
makes me suspicious
that our lives are lies

3.Them

those who had no inspirations
had some  timely investments


and you know life
is no easy judgement

Only the song

Only the song remains
The memories fade
the reasons vanish
Faithful to a click on the lcd
Bound to arouse a feeling

..a feeling without any grounding